


Coffee House

by groovymutation



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: AU, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 20:42:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2521118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groovymutation/pseuds/groovymutation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has a new job.<br/>Sebastian has too many books to read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abi (jimisfabby)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimisfabby/gifts).



> Gifted to my good friend Abi because I miss her and I know she loves Seb and Jim as much as I do.

It was the start of October and Jim had been at his new job for a week. He'd been supervised for a few days but the manager now saw it fit to leave him be in the shop. It wasn't always a busy place to say that it was in London, most of the orders were to take out save the ones that stayed; usually with their macbooks. 

He didn't really mind the job so much; he'd been searching for something for weeks and had gotten to the point where he'd take anything. 

It was a quaint place; the walls were wood panelled and dark chestnut in colour. The floor was laminate but a light laminate and cracked leather armchairs were dotted around with low tables as well as normal tables. 

For a coffee shop, Jim thought it had quite a homely atmosphere. 

It was October 7th and London was overcast. The sky threatened to rain and a cold wind blew stray litter around on the street. A few people were in the coffee shop; two business men talking over a presentation on a netbook set between them and two women out for a catch up over a warm drink. 

Jim was slouched on a stool behind the counter scrolling through his phone. He'd cleaned twice and refilled the stock; now he was just killing time. 

Overhead some acoustic music played softly adding to the atmosphere and Jim lifted his head as the small bell over the door chimed indicating a new customer. Ordinarily he didn’t pay much attention to the customers, he served them and that was about it, but this one was different. 

He was a tall man wit skinny limbs and honey blonde hair that was combed back but now slightly disheveled from the wind outside and a pair of round framed tortoise shell glasses balanced precariously on his nose. He was dressed warmly in a dark grey pea coat, dark blue skinny jeans and tan leather Chelsea boots, but Jim noticed a pop of colour on the sleeves of a cardigan that was hiding in the depths of the mans coat sleeves.

And yet none of that captivated his attention. It was what in his hands that caught his eye.

He’d never seen someone so absorbed by a book. Never did he once look up from the pages to see where he was walking; it was like he didn’t need to. He didn’t even look up when he reached the counter. 

He held the book in in his left hand, eyes still scanning the words as he delved his right hand into the messenger bag that hung over his shoulder to retrieve is wallet.

“I’ll take a large black coffee, no sugar," he requested as he carried on reading. 

Jim stared at him for a second before he slid from the stool and keyed in the other mans order on the register. He saw a slither of bright purple fabric creep out from under his coat sleeve as he held out a ten pound note.

He kept his hand out and upturned, waiting for his change that Jim placed into his hand before the man strolled to the end of the counter to wait for his drink. He watched him curiously as he rested his back against the counter and turned the page of his book while he made up his order. 

As soon as he placed it on the counter, the man turned, curled his hand around the mug, muttered a thanks and strolled off towards a table near the window where he settled into one of the armchairs and carried on reading. 

-

October 8th; it’s raining pretty bad out today. It’s running down the windows like waterfalls and Jim’s not expecting a lot of customers if any. The shop is currently empty and Jim’s resting his weight on his hands on the counter as he reads a newspaper. Overhead he’s half heartedly listening to the sound of The Smiths and he’s pulled from his absent mind when he hears the tinkle of the bell above the door. 

He was surprised to see him with the weather. His book was clasped to his chest but as soon as he was out of the rain, its pages were open and he was engrossed in it once more. Jim saw that he was very green today. His lace up shoes and his scarf, were all the same shade of emerald green while everything else was black. Beneath his coat he wore a hooded zip up, the hood of which was currently pulled up over his wayward blonde hair and his messenger bag was slung around him once again.

He requested the same as yesterday and Jim realised he’d have to put the book down in order to grab his wallet, but his realisation was shot when he passed the book to his left hand once again and he watched the mans right hand delve into his coat pocket before retrieving a note and handing it over. 

Once again he put together his request, watching as he wandered to the end of the counter to wait. The book he clasped today was different to yesterdays and Jim guessed he either read really fast, read non stop or just got bored easily. He figured it might be the second option as he slid the beverage onto the counter with a smile; he didn’t know why he smiled, it wasn’t like he’d see it. 

He heard him mutter a ‘thanks’ before his hand slid around the mug and he sauntered over to where he sat yesterday, dropping his bag by the foot of the chair before he sunk into the seat. 

\- 

October 16th; it’s been nine days since Jim saw the man for the first time. Since then he’s noticed he wears a different colour everyday and everyday he has a different book. On the 10th it was cold out but not raining; he wore all black with a tan coloured over coat and thick knit brown and white scarf. He was reading Of Mice and Men. On the 12th he wore a purple hooded jacket beneath a black trench coat and he was reading Jane Eyre. 

Today is October 16th, the colour is royal blue and the book is The Great Gatsby. Jim already has his order waiting; he’s ordered the same thing every other day and he figures today is the day he’ll acknowledge him, but he doesn’t. He’s too far into his book to notice that his order takes less time to arrive and today, he doesn’t even thank him but that’s okay; Jim can tell he’s far too interested in the story; he’s seen that look twice before. 

He sinks into his chair by the window again, bag at the foot of the chair and Jim watches as he settles against the arm to get comfortable.

-

It’s Monday and Jim hates Mondays, or at least he used to. It’s October 21st; ten days until Halloween and the pavement outside is littered with autumn leaves. It’s also three weeks to the day that he first saw this man who’s name he’s still yet to learn. He hadn’t meant to count the days since he’d first saw him, but the coffee shop was so drab sometimes that he had to do something to occupy himself. 

There was a new drink on the menu, a special for autumn. The house coffee with a pinch of cinnamon, sweetened whipped cream and a dusting of coco powder. So far it was popular; he’d made several this morning already.

And there goes the chime of the small bell above the door. He walks in and Jim can’t decide if today’s colour is black or wine red. He decides that there’s an equal amount of both and figures the man couldn't decide himself. 

He's wearing black jeans with wine red brogues, a black coat and a wine red scarf. His hair is wayward once again and his glasses are sliding down his nose. In his hands he’s holding The Bell Jar and his bag is hanging from his shoulder.

He expected him to order his usual and he set to work on it but he suddenly spoke, catching Jim off guard. His eyes were still glued to the book and as Jim looked at him, he couldn't help but stare.

“Can I get the autumn special with two dashes of cinnamon and cream?” 

His voice is soft and Jim realises he’s only ever heard it once before when he first told him his order, since then he’s just assumed. His brow furrowed as he tallied up his order and his mouth goes dry as he speaks. 

“Is that with coco?” 

He doesn’t speak but he nods his head evidently aware that he was looking at him as he awaited his answer. Jim’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he wondered if he’d realised he’d been looking at him all the other times he’d been in here. 

The book didn’t move from his face but he handed over his money like every other time and sauntered to the end of the counter to wait for his order. He finished up the mans order and slid it onto the counter. 

Before his hand left the mug, the other mans hand lightly brushed his. He retracted his hand quickly and he uttered a ‘thanks’ before moving towards his seat. Jim watches after him, his stomach in knots. He feels like he’s in love but that’s near impossible, he’s barely said four words to the man; he’s not even sure he’s seen his face properly on account that it’s always hidden behind the pages of whatever book he’s reading. 

\- 

It’s October 23rd and a Wednesday. The coffee shop was always quiet on Wednesday’s and Jim still didn’t know why. He was impatient today; the man usually came into the shop just before 12 but it was almost 1 now. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t shown up. 

He saw him yesterday; he was in green again but he looked like he was having trouble focussing on his book. He looked distant and when Jim had watched him cross to his chair he noticed he spent his time looking out of the window and not at his book. 

The bell rings above the door and Jim’s attention snaps up to whoever walks in. He stares at this man for a second or two before he realises it’s his man, the one he’s been so impatiently waiting for all morning.

There wasn’t a usual splash of colour on him, in fact he looked quite drab compared to the other days. He wore a pair of plain black jeans, an oversized grey jumper and a pair of beaten up Chuck Taylor's while his bag hung lazily off of his shoulder, but the thing that struck Jim was that he didn’t have a book.

He could see the mans face properly for the first time as he stood in front of him at the counter. He had huge, bright blue eyes that were currently scanning the menu and his skin was fair and smooth save a little stubble on his chin and cheeks.

This was the first time the man had seen the clerk that had always served him and for a moment, Jim swore he looked a little surprised; but it was the pleasant kind of surprise like when you surprise someone with a gift they’ve always wanted. 

Jim was fairly short, a fair amount shorter than the man in front of him. A black apron was tied around his body over the top of a black polo shirt and a pair of black polyester trousers. He had a crooked smile and laugh lines around his deep brown eyes. His head was a mess of disheveled, soft coal black hair and as he placed his hands on the counter he saw that his hands looked soft and well looked after while his fingernails were perfectly shaped.

The man folded his hands on the counter top and gave him a brief smile and since he didn’t have a book, Jim decided to use that to start up a conversation after he’d ordered his usual. 

“No book today?” he asked as he paid and he handed over his change. 

“Oh, no,” he shrugged slightly with a smile. “Not today.” 

Jim smiled back as he put the mans drink together and he walked down to the collection area. 

“I guess you’ve read all of your collection then,” he slid the mans order to him.

“Not yet,” he shook his head, his nose scrunching up a little which Jim thought was adorable. 

“So why are you lacking a book?” he pressed. 

“My other half is sick of my constant reading,” he gave a half hearted shrug as he curled his hand around the cup. “He said it was a little… _geeky_.”

Jim’s heart sank at the phrase 'other half' and his shoulders slumped a little as he grabbled the cloth, ready to clean when he strolled away to his usual spot. 

“Reading is good though,” he finally answered, trying to mask the disappointment in his voice. “They probably just doesn’t understand.”

Lifting his mug from the small counter top he threw Jim a friendly smile.

“That’s why we split,” he raised his brow slightly before leaving Jim watching after him as he strolled over to his chair and sunk into it. 

\- 

The following day is Wednesday and the weather is bleak. The man comes in again, orders his usual and sinks into his chair. The shop is quiet and there’s only him and this man occupying it. Overhead today Jim is playing The Cure and the man is sat with his back to the counter, sitting in a different chair than what was his usual. 

Behind the counter Jim’s been reading. After seeing how engrossed this man had become in his stories, Jim tried his hand at burying himself in a book to pass the dreary days when the shop was quiet. He’s been reading The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time and he’s fairly interested in it. 

He leaves the counter to clean the tables and as he passes by where the man is sat, he sees how bored he looks. His head is resting against his hand and his bright blue eyes are focussed on the traffic outside. 

Returning to the counter, Jim grabs the book he’s been reading before hesitantly making his way over to the other man. There’s no colour about him again, today he’s in a long sleeved black jumper and tube black jeans.

“Here,” he holds the book out to him, snapping the man from his thoughts as he looks from his hand to his face. “You look really bored without a book. I’m Jim, by the way.”

“Sebastian,” he smiles in reply. “Thanks but I’m alright.”

He can see he’s lying and Jim invites himself to sit in his usual seat seen as there’s no one else in the shop right now. He slides the book onto the table and studies the other man for a second before he sighs. 

“I’ve seen you in here every day since October 7th, and what, it’s the 24th today? That’s 17 days,” he spoke as he looked at him. “Fifteen of those days you’ve had a book in your hands. I’ve never seen someone so lost in a story, someone so utterly oblivious to their surroundings because of a story and it’s fascinated me.” 

As Sebastian listened to him, he found himself getting a little lost between his eyes and his voice. His eyes seem to look right at him, right into him and his voice is smooth with a northern Irish accent and he’s almost sure it’s the most beautiful voice he’s ever heard. 

“Just because someone doesn’t understand something you do,” his lips curled up into a slight smile. “Doesn’t mean you should stop doing it. It’s obvious to me you’re passionate about reading and there’s no wrong in that. Take the book and read it, no doubt you’ll have finished it by tomorrow.”

Jim rose from the chair as a customer came in and Sebastian reached for the book reading the synopsis on the back. He turned in his chair as Jim started to walk to the counter. 

“Jim?” he called softly with a slight smile and he turned to him in answer. “Thank you.”

-

It’s October 25th and a very wet and windy Thursday. The coffee shop is empty and Jim has Sebastian’s order ready; he figured he’d do it double sized seen as the weather was awful. Sebastian threw himself through the door just after 11 in his black overcoat with a red hooded jacket underneath. He had a colour today and that colour was red. He had red on his scarf, his shoes and his bag. He wasn’t reading when he walked in, Jim figured it was because of the weather, the pages would get wet and blown about, but he didn’t whip out the book as he walked to the counter either. 

He pressed the book onto the counter top as he peered out from under his hood at him with a smile. He went to open his mouth to request his usual but Jim grabbed the double sized mug and slid it between them without asking for any payment; he even refused when he tried to pay. 

When Sebastian realized Jim wasn’t going to accept payment, he sighed and stuffed his wallet back into his pocket as he muttered a thanks and turned his attention back to the book as he took his hood down and ruffled his honey blonde hair slightly.

“You were right,” he slid the book across the counter top towards Jim who was leant over it slightly. “I did finish the book, last night actually. I really enjoyed it, thank you.”

Jim merely shrugged his shoulders before he collected the book and slid it onto a shelf beneath the counter.

“I’m glad,” he answered him with a smile. “It’s good to see you back to normal.”

Sebastian quirked an eyebrow with a smile as he curled his hand around the mug that was slightly bigger than he was used to and leant on the counter after making sure there was no one else in the place. 

“And what’s normal?” his eyes narrow on Jim's face as he shies away a little.

“I uh… well,” Jim stumbles over his words and his hands fiddle with the knot on his apron as he finally decided on an answer. “With a book.” 

“You don’t think it’s weird that I’m always reading?” he leans a little further forwards and Jim’s brow falls into a frown as he slumps forwards a little closer to him. 

“No,” his tone sounds confused and Sebastian detects a hint of disgust as if Jim’s heard a ludicrous question, which to him, he has. “I think it’s good you’re always reading. I think…” 

He trailed off as Sebastian took a drink from his mug before poking the tip of his right index finger into the top of Jim’s left hand resting on the counter.

“You think what?” he questioned, focusing his wide blue eyes on Jim.

“I think it’s cute,” it comes out quiet and in a mumble but Sebastian hears it perfectly clearly. 

He takes a moment before standing on his toes to lean right over the counter. Jim gives him a puzzled look and he simply just presses a kiss to his cheek, turning it a bright shade of pink. 

“Is it cute enough to win me dinner later on?” Sebastian smiled as he settled back on his side of the counter. 

Jim followed a smile with a slight, happy hum of laughter before he nodded his head. The bell chimed above the door and a customer walked in as Sebastian stood up straight with a soft smile to Jim.

“Good,” he nodded back at him before he made his way to his usual spot, settling into his usual chair before he pulled a book out of his bag and settled into another story, leaving Jim to tend to the customer with a happy expression painted across his face.


End file.
